


Stay With Me

by SiriGirl



Series: Whumptober 2019 [2]
Category: MacGyver (TV 1985)
Genre: Also: Slash, Angst, Don't Like Don't Read, Explosions, Fear, M/M, Mac couldn't diffuse a bomb, Pete is scared, Whumptober 2019, they're in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-04
Updated: 2019-10-04
Packaged: 2020-11-23 22:03:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20896817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SiriGirl/pseuds/SiriGirl
Summary: Mac tried to diffuse a bomb and only partially succeeded-he saved the targets, but blew himself up.





	Stay With Me

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for the pain.

_ BOOM. _

That was all that he was aware of. There was a flash, he was flying through the air. He landed, it was hard. His whole body felt like it was on fire. Hell, maybe it was. He couldn’t open his eyes to check, he was pretty sure his whole face was covered in flash burns. He curled around himself, which made the pain intensify. Briefly, he wondered if this was the end. He was going to die here in this crappy parking lot that badly needed repaving. The one he had bitched about the whole drive in. How’s that for irony?

Sighing, he laid his head down against the pavement. Pain, so much pain. Waves of it washed over his body, threatening to engulf him. It was getting harder and harder to stay awake. He could feel blood dripping off the back of his head, along with several other places.

He’d really thought dying would be more...interesting? This didn’t feel interesting. This was excruciatingly painful. His back ached now, his spine felt like it was rattling. Idly, he noticed that his left foot seemed to be bleeding. That would certainly explain the gushing feeling.

“Mac!”

Ah, that voice. The voice of a hundred years, a thousand mornings. Mornings spent with leisurely kisses in bed until they  _ had  _ to get up now or they’d be late for work. That voice had gently awakened him, and sung him to sleep.The voice that asked him what he wanted for dinner, or called to him across the grocery store. The voice had erotically whispered in his ear in the dark of night, and issued his orders in the light of day. That voice lifted him up when he was down, gave him strength when he was weak. That voice asked him for help with crossword puzzles, or asked him if he’d paid the water bill. That voice was soft and gentle when they talked about the future. Their future. That voice was the wind in his sails, the spring in his step. It kept him going when nothing else in the world could.

A smile played at his lips, cracked and bleeding. So. Smiling hurt, too. “P-pe-ete.”

Hands were on his neck, shoulders, chest. Checking for injuries, stilling when they found one. “Hang on, love. I’ve got an ambulance on the way.”

Mac chuckled around his bruised throat. “Don’t-don’t know if I’ll need it.” A pain shot through his torso, and he sat bolt upright with the shock of it. But his world tipped as he did, and he felt Pete’s arms come around him. “Mac! Stay with me, love. Stay with me. Don’t move.”

Pete was hugging him against his chest now. Mac still couldn’t see for the blood in his eyes, so he shut them again. At least the dizziness had subsided. And he loved being held against Pete’s chest. It was soft and warm and felt like coming home. “Di-idn’t g-get it diffu-used. I’m s-sorry.”

“Partially.” Pete’s voice had the ring of panic that it always did when he was trying to stay calm. “You saved the bus. And you diffused it enough to give yourself a fighting chance. Now stop talking, you’re wasting all your energy.”

Mac nodded, and found his head drooping down to his chest. He had just realized he was bleeding from his ribcage area as well. A lot, if the growing wet spot on Pete’s shirt was any indication.

_ Shit. _ This wasn’t how it was supposed to end. They hadn’t gotten their little house yet, their white picket fence. They were supposed to have years to enjoy their retirement, years to spend together with nothing more pressing to do than cut the grass or fold the laundry. Time to take long walks in the woods, and weekend getaways to little B&Bs all across the country. Time to love each other right.

“P-pete?”

Pete’s voice had even more veiled panic in it now. He, too, couldn’t help but notice the blood. “Yes, love?”

Mac coughed, breathing becoming more difficult. “Tell-tell Michael...th-that it’s b-been gre...at, b-being h-his, s-step...dad.”

“No! Don’t talk, Mac.” Pete was rocking him furiously. “Just save your strength. The paramedics will be here soon.”

“And t-tell Jack…” he trailed off, unable to finish. His vision, even with his eyes closed, was like an untuned TV. All he could see was static.

“Where’s that ambulance!” Pete barked out, gently slapping his boyfriend’s face. “Mac! Mac, stay with me. Can you hear me? Mac!”

Mac wanted to answer him, really he did. He hated seeing his beloved in pain. But he couldn’t. Words left his brain and petered out on their way down to his mouth. He couldn’t even raise his arm, much as he tried. It lay limply down at his side until he finally gave up.

“Call the paramedics again, he needs blood now!” Pete’s voice had gone into full-blown panic mode. Mac felt wetness on his face, in his mouth. Salty. Pete was crying, his tears landing on him. “Somebody, help him! Is there a doctor, a nurse, anyone?”

Mac felt as if he were floating.Everything was hazy and either white or blue. He could see some other colors on the outskirts of his vision, but they stayed mostly hidden. And all he could hear was Pete yelling for help or calling his name. He felt light, as if he had left his body. He was still aware of the pain, the bleeding, but really couldn’t feel it. It was like being on the outside looking in at himself. It was terrifying, but also intriguing. Was this what death felt like? Was this the afterlife? Was he going to see his parents again soon?

A siren cut through his vague recognition of what was around him. Pete’s whole body drooped in relief. “Oh, thank god. Do you have blood? He’s lost too much already.” Then, “Nevermind, let’s get him onto the stretcher first. Love, can you hear me?”

Mac’s consciousness had dissolved into a spinning black hole. All the colors were spun out, the hole got larger. He tried to fight it, but he was weak, so very weak. And it was strong.

As it engulfed him completely, he heard one last thing:

“Mac!”

**Author's Note:**

> I do apologize. To be clear: MAC IS NOT DEAD. I know I made it seem that way. I'm sorry, really I am.  
Or am I? *laughs evilly in author*  
Kudos and comments are always 1000% appreciated!


End file.
